


Unspecified Fear

by AlwaysJohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Light Angst, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/pseuds/AlwaysJohn
Summary: Normally I would just title this FEAR, but…
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Unspecified Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Not a case fic per se, more the after-feeling. Not a lot of things, just the old-fashioned, free-floating anxiety. And, of course, since it’s my mindset, just a whole lot of love.

Following a particularly terrifying case, John and Sherlock hoped to regain their equilibrium by adopting an under-the-radar time out. 

With Mrs Hudson away for a few days, but in contact via phone, and a fridge filled with many of their favorite foods thanks to the dear lady and the surprisingly and obnoxiously sympathetic Mycroft, they settled in to be gentle with each other and ‘just be.’

John glanced up from his spot on the sofa and his latest spy novel, still open to page two after an hour of supposed reading, to watch Sherlock tinkering on his violin. The rumple to the bridge of his nose and the down-turned brows indicated unease, but it was the discordant moan of bow across strings a beat later that startled him and raised his concern to a high-level alert. 

Baskerville and their fireside _chat_ from so long ago flashed through his mind. He pushed it into a dark corner and slammed the door shut, locking it for extra measure.

Sherlock rose from his chair, cradled his precious violin in its case, and swooshed sock-footed to the sofa where John waited, his position shifted fully onto the cushions to welcome him.

They lay with legs tangled, Sherlock’s face burrowed into John’s belly, as close as humanly possible. If Sherlock could have crawled inside, John was certain he would have done.

“I’m here, Sherlock. It’s okay to be afraid,” John murmured to him, holding him with one arm and caressing his riot of curls with the other.

“Not afraid.”

“Your breathing tells a different story. And you’re trembling a bit.”

“Residuals, John. Please, John, no doctorly platitudes at the moment.”

“Okay I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help it.”

“True.”

“Yes.”

“Budge up, love, lay your head on my shoulder.”

Sherlock acquiesced, and, a bit closer still, pressed his nose into the warm place where John's neck met his shoulder. 

“Mmm, much better,” John whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Best.”

John pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and covered them as best he could. 

“Let’s rest a bit, shall we? Later, I’ll make your favorite for dinner.”

“The thing?”

“Of course.”

“With the peas?”

“Do you have another favorite?”

“Nooo? Just you.”

“Okay, love, cuddle closer and we can be brave together.”

“Not..”

“Sh, don’t talk, just hold me tighter.”

“Yes, John.”

**Author's Note:**

> Be safe


End file.
